Columbus
by Wistful Watcher
Summary: On a field trip, Will and Rachel hit a bad storm and are forced to wait it out in a motel room. Will/Rachel, one-shot.


Will parked the fifteen-passenger van, pushing his shoulders back and exhaling as his back cracked. Looking to his right, he smiled at Emma, then turned back to the kids and jokingly barked, "Everyone out!" The young singers didn't need any more encouragement, and they all ran from the small vehicle, grumbling and laughing as they cut in front of their peers.

The New Directions were scheduled to perform three songs tomorrow morning in Indianapolis for their first invitational of the season. It had only been a three hour drive, but driving the large vehicle had been more nerve-wrecking than Will had anticipated, and his back ached from tensing his muscles.

Stretching gratefully once he was out of the vehicle, Will squinted at the sky. The team had left Lima at two that afternoon, with all twelve of their members, himself, and Emma, who had volunteered to chaperone. Will and Emma had not exactly rekindled their brief romance, but Emma had really started to care for the club, and had been more than happy to help them out.

It was early October of the kids' junior year, and Emma had grown closer to her dentist beau over the summer (which she had made clear to Will several times). He'd dropped any comments he'd been planning to make as per her wishes, and things had been professional (read: terse) between them all afternoon. The kids hadn't seemed to notice, which he was grateful for; they already knew more about his relationships than was appropriate (or appreciated), and he was happy to focus on the competition.

The weather had been fine when they'd left the school parking lot, but when they were crossing into Indiana, a thunderstorm had started. Will had tried to listen to a weather report, but Puck did something that had elicited a squeal from Rachel and laughter from the rest of the group, and a radio just couldn't compete with that noise.

It had stopped raining about fifteen minutes ago, but Will wasn't expecting that to last very long, judging by the clouds. He reached into the backseat to grab his duffle bag, absentmindedly picking up a few other suitcases to help Puck and Finn unload the car. The men squished their way over to the hotel doors, stepping over a rather large puddle that had formed from the heavy rain earlier.

Emma checked them in while they waited in the small TV lounge to the side, and he joined her at the counter just in time to hear the clerk informing her of the cleaning products used in the establishment. "Uh, Emma," Will rested his hand on her shoulder, smiling at the attendant. "I'm sure the rooms look great. Got the keys?"

"Oh, um, yes. Here are the two boys' room keys." Will took the plastic cards, leaving keys for Emma and the girls. They headed down the hall to the end, where all four rooms were in the same area.

"OK, guys. Tomorrow we kick start our competitive season! Don't stay up too late, guys, and keep the practicing to a minimum," the last part was aimed at Rachel, and she had the decency to look down bashfully. Will looked at his watch, his eyes widening. "Ooh, the rain set us back a ways. Everyone that's coming to see the musical, out in the van in ten minutes. Enjoy, guys."

The crowd dispersed, all of the glee-clubbers entering their respective rooms. Emma was left in the hall with Will, and he slid his hands into his pockets, feeling uncomfortable. "Thank you so much for coming with us, Em. And for taking over while I take them to see the musical."

Emma wrapped her arms around her waist and smiled awkwardly. "It's no problem, Will. I like being here. For the kids, I mean. Being able to support and help, with the—" Will smiled and rested his hand on her shoulder again.

"I know what you mean, Emma. I'll be back in a few hours." Will brushed past her, heading for the van. As he'd expected, the rain had started up again, and was already coming down pretty hard. He ran to the driver's side and jumped in.

While he was not looking forward to maneuvering the large van again, Will was actually excited to see the musical. Since they were arriving the night before they were performing, Will had looked for entertainment nearby. He'd found out that there was a production of the _25__th__ Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee_ in Columbus, just an hour from their hotel. He'd run the idea by the club and found some interest, so he ran it by Figgins and got the side trip approved.

Will waited in the van for a few minutes, sighing as he glanced at his watch. The play started at 7:30, and they would be cutting it close as it is. Finally, the passenger's seat door opened, and Rachel hopped onto the seat. "Ready, Mr. Schue."

Will leaned against the door, looking at her. "Where's everyone else?"

"They're all in their rooms, being lazy and boorish." She rolled her eyes as she straightened her skirt (the summer had done nothing to discourage her wardrobe), shifting in her seat.

Will shifted his gaze to the side, his mouth opening for a protest. "No one else is coming? What about Kurt?" His hands shifted on the steering wheel, but he most certainly did not gulp in anticipation of her answer.

"Tina agreed to let him give her a makeover. I reminded him of the excellent reviews the theatre had gotten for last year's performances of _Rent _and _Anything Goes_ but he waved me away." The irritated tone of Rachel's voice brought a smirk to Will's lips.

"Maybe we should cancel the trip, then. It's raining pretty hard, too." Truthfully, the rain didn't bother Will so much as the prospect of four hours alone with Rachel. Their relationship had always been just a little left of center, and Will had a feeling that the only thing keeping them in the gravitational pull of that center was the presence of other people.

" Mr. Schuester, I've heard very good things about this performance. Besides, the alternative is spending the next four and a half hours watching reruns of _Tool Academy _as our nostrils fill with acetone methyl methacrylate and our eyes water from hairspray."

Unable to hold back a smile at her ever-so-pleased-with-herself smirk, Will looked at his watch. "Alright, let's get going then."

()()()

Twenty minutes into their drive, Will had relaxed significantly. While he'd been concerned about an uncomfortable ride, his worries had vanished quite early into the trek. Rachel had mentioned her excitement to see the production, one she'd never seen before (he hadn't seen it either). Their conversation had taken a rather natural progression, from this musical to other musicals, to musical numbers they loved, to music in general, with a few side roads in between.

When Rachel slipped in, "I'd love to sing, 'I'd Rather Be Blue Over You,' for a crowd," Will looked at her sideways. He waited for her to match his look, gauging his reception to the idea like she'd done with so many suggestions since he'd taken over Glee.

After no sly glance came, and Rachel continued on, Will realized with a start that she was actually just talking to him, with, what appeared to be, no agenda. That epiphany had loosened up Will significantly, and the following dialogue had flowed much more naturally on his end.

Outside of the vehicle, the energy flowed in the opposite direction, as the rain grew heavier and heavier, to the point where Will was having trouble seeing through the windshield.

Noticing the halt on conversation, Rachel cleared her throat. "Um, Mr. Schue? Maybe it's time we pulled over." Her tone was that of a strong suggestion, and since she was being respectful, Will extended her the same courtesy.

"It is coming down pretty hard. We're about halfway there, but the problem is I don't really think there's anywhere to stop." The car grew silent as both passengers studied their surroundings. Will flipped on the radio, but could only get static. It was right around seven o'clock, and by this time of the season it was already getting darker outside. The storm eliminated that last bit of day they'd get, however, and the sheer nothingness made the storm seem that much worse.

"Up ahead, is that a barricade?" Rachel leaned forward in her seat, straining the seat belt and tucking her hands beneath her thighs.

"Looks like it." Will slowed the car as he reached the orange vest, and rolled down his window.

"Excuse me, sir, but I'm afraid you can't go any farther. We've had several flash flood warnings, and we have to shut sections of 65 down."

Will squinted against the rain coming in and looked back at Rachel. Her brows were furrowed, listening to the man in the rain, and Will turned back to him to ask, "We're on our way to Columbus. Is there any other route we could take?"

The man shook his head, and gestured behind him. "All routes are shut down. A few large branches have been struck by lightning, and are completely blocking the roads."

"Can we turn around, get back to Indianapolis?"

The man pursed his lips and shook his head again. "'Fraid not. We've shut down the highway back about two miles."

"If we pull over, how quickly do you think it'll pass?"

The man clucked his tongue, regretfully. "The warnings are in effect until midnight, and with the way it's coming down, the roads won't be drivable until at least five or six tomorrow morning." Will ran a hand over his face, slicking off the rain, and leaned back. "There is a motel, however, just down that dirt road, to your right."

Will nodded and thanked him before winding the window back up. Turning to Rachel, Will sighed. "I guess we go to the motel, wait it out?" He wasn't exactly asking Rachel, since they really didn't have an alternative, but he also didn't like the idea of forcing her into the situation they were in.

()()()

It took no more than ten minutes to make it to the motel, and Will parked the large van as close to the door as he could. The motel was pretty dinky looking, with eight rooms lined up in a row, each in front of a parking spot.

Turning to Rachel, Will gave her an apologetic look. "I'll run in, see if they still have any rooms left." Rachel nodded, seeming more quiet than usual. The rain seemed to let up momentarily, and Will seized the opportunity to dash into the small office.

A heavy-set, stereotypical motel clerk sat behind a desk, the news in front of him as a munched on a pizza. "Excuse me," Will inched toward the desk, "I need two rooms, please."

The clerk scoffed and slid him a single key. "Buddy, you're lucky I got one room tonight. It'll be $59.95." Will looked at the key and grabbed it, pulling out his wallet with his other hand.

Leaning over the desk, Will lowered his voice. "Um, I _really _need two rooms. See, I was taking my student to a performance, and—"

The clerk looked up, staring out the window separating the van and the office. Rachel sat in the front seat, her head titled down looking at her lap. Nodding with a skeezy grin, he said, "Say no more. I gotcha." The man gave him a smile and what appeared to be an attempt at a wink, and wrote something else in his book. Taking the school credit card from Will's hand, the man announced, "Your total is $119.90. Enjoy your _rooms_." Will sighed and signed the receipt, despite the unsettled feeling he got as the clerk leered at Rachel.

He waited for the man to hand him another key, but instead he filed the receipt and turned back to the TV. "Uh, the second room key?"

"Look, it's on the books for two rooms. I helped you out as much as I can. Enjoy." He turned away again, and Will took it as a final word. Taking a deep breath, he pocketed his wallet and gripped the key as he ran back to the van.

Throwing open the door, he said, "Come on," and Rachel jumped from her seat. He turned off the lights and the engine before locking the van and leading Rachel to door number eight, the one on the very end.

The key turned smoothly, and they both pushed through the door, shutting it quickly to close out the wind. Will turned the lock out of habit, and looked at Rachel, who'd gone to stand in the center of the room, right in front of the bed.

Singular. Bed. Will groaned. Not knowing how to explain the situation, Will let his hand rest on the back of his neck as he closed his eyes. "So, there was only one room left." Opening his eyes, Will watched as Rachel nodded slowly and sat down on the edge of the bed. The singular bed in the very, very small room.

"I guess we'll just wait it out here until the roads are clear. The rain seems to have slowed, though, so maybe it'll be clear before too long." Rachel's lack of speech was starting to concern Will, as she was always so vocal. "Um, Rach? Are you, I mean, I know this isn't exactly—"

"Do you mind if I see what's on TV?" Rachel's aversion of his question was a little disconcerting, but also an enormous relief. If she could ignore this, then so could he.

"Sounds good. I'm gonna call E—Ms. Pillsbury and let her know what's happened." Will debated going to the van to call, but decided that, since he had, somehow, managed to avoid getting too wet, he'd better not tempt fate. Instead he walked into the small bathroom, shutting the door lightly behind him.

Leaning against the wall, Will let out a relieved sigh that he got a signal. He dialed and waited, taking in the space. The bedroom hadn't been too bad, not exactly stylish, but clean enough. The bathroom seemed about the same, but the shower seemed to be a little on the short and small side.

"Will?"

"Emma, hi."

"What are you doing? Isn't the show about to start?"

Will wasn't sure why he felt so weird about checking in with Emma. It wasn't as if they were dating, and what did that have to do with anything anyway? Nothing inappropriate was going on. Just unfortunate circumstances.

But then, why had he felt like _this_ since he'd left the hotel with just Rachel in the front seat?

"Actually, Rachel and I didn't make it to Columbus. There was a barricade due to a flash flood warning, and we had to check in to a motel. We're waiting for the roads to clear."

There was a long pause from Emma, and Will was grateful he wasn't looking at her right now. "A motel? Did they have two rooms open?"

"Yeah. Last two." He looked at the mirror over the sink and felt very, very grimy. But, their evening would remain as professional as if there were two rooms, so it wasn't exactly a lie, was it?

After what he was pretty sure was a sigh of relief, Emma said, "Ok, well, things are fine here. Do you know when you'll be back?"

"Right now the roads aren't going to be ready until early tomorrow morning, but it might be a little sooner. I'll let you know. Bye, Emma." He flipped his phone shut and steeled himself before opening the bathroom door.

Rachel was sitting on the edge of the bed, her legs crossed at the ankles watching TV with a smile on her face. "Something good on?"

Rachel turned to him, closing her lips in a smaller version of her smile. "_Funny Girl_." Will set his phone on the dresser and sat down next to the brunette. She turned her head toward him slightly, her eyes still on the TV, until she finally broke the stare, looking at Will. She offered the remote to Will, but he declined.

"I haven't seen _Funny Girl _in a few years." Rachel looked back at the screen.

()()()

The movie had just started when they turned it on, and by intermission the storm had gotten worse and the two occupants had gotten more comfortable. Will had kicked off his shoes, opting to lean against the headboard with his feet stretched out in front of him. Rachel had shrugged off her sweater, leaving her in a thin t-shirt and skirt, as her Mary-Janes had joined his loafers on the floor.

Rachel had elected to sit cross-legged, despite her short skirt, though it wasn't as if Will could see anything but the usual amount of smooth, tan leg. Will had caught Rachel mouthing the words along to the film about forty minutes ago, as she was entirely oblivious to his presence in the room. When Barbra started to sing "People," Will smiled and looked down at his lap. Breaking the relative quiet of the room, he said, "You can sing if you want to, Rachel."

She looked back at him, startled at first. Then she broke into a wide grin and sang along. As the film progressed, Will caught himself a few times, watching Rachel more than the TV. Really, it was understandable; she was a natural performer, and really, it was his job to make sure she was singing it right.

However, that didn't exactly explain the pressure he felt in his chest, or the painful ache in his jaw from smiling. During a commercial, Will had Rachel flip to a weather channel. There was no real update, other than the warning being in effect until 12:30 or 1:00 am.

Will excused himself to go to the bathroom, and when he got back, Rachel had shifted around. She was laying on her stomach, head in her hands with her feet (sans socks) resting against the headboard. Her skirt was stretched up ever so slightly more than usual, though it did lay flat against her thighs.

Will paused momentarily, before crossing in front of the screen and sitting on his side of the bed. As he rested his back against the headboard, he couldn't help but glance at the skin just inches from his hand. Rachel was still mouthing along with the words, and Will took just a few selfish, guilty seconds to notice that, with her feet resting against the headboard, her thighs were parted just the smallest bit, enough that if his fingertips were to trail from her ankle to the hem—

Rachel's sudden burst into "Sadie, Sadie" snapped him out of his completely inappropriate thoughts. Feeling guilty, his eyes flew to the screen, and he focused on the words of the song, singing along almost inaudibly.

Looking over her shoulder at him, Rachel paused in her verse and smiled her biggest smile. Will couldn't stop the smile that matched, or the playful, "What?"

Just before Rachel was about to say some compliment/insult hybrid, she closed her mouth and turned back to the screen, and they sang the rest of the song together.

And Will most certainly did not glance at her legs or skirt again.

()()()

As the credits rolled, Will got off of the bed and rolled his shoulders, grunting as something cracked. Rachel flipped to the weather channel and sat up. Will averted his eyes quickly as her movement caused her clothing to shift, and he moved to pick up his cell phone from the dresser.

He crossed his arms over his chest as the report started. Rachel moved from her place on the edge of the bed, and looked out the window. "It's still coming down really hard, Mr. Schue." He ignored her comment, instead hoping for some news in the opposite direction from the news program. Unfortunately, the earlier predictions had proven quite accurate for the first time ever, and the warning was still on for the next two hours or so.

Rachel's gasp drew his attention away from the screen. "Rachel? Are you OK?" He moved quickly toward the window, resting his hand on her shoulder.

She turned to him, nodding, before her attention returned outside. "Lightning just struck a tree across the street. It just startled me, is all." She gulped and looked briefly at his hand, before he pulled it back with a start, and rested his hands on his hips.

"Weather forecast is the same. It looks like we'll be stuck here for the, uh, night." Will didn't want to pinpoint why, but he felt really manipulative as he said the words, despite the fact that just about every aspect of their excursion had been completely out of his control.

"Oh." Rachel walked to the dresser and picked up her sweater. "Did you see any vending machines in the office? I think I'm going to get a bottle of water." She started buttoning it up, and added, "Would you like me to get you anything?"

Will thought of the greasy man who had insinuated very, very wrong things about them, and the way he'd openly leered at the young brunette. "Uh, that's OK. I can go get it. Anything besides water?" He opened the door as he asked, stepping out of the door and under the thin awning.

"No, but really, I am fully capable of—" Will shut the door and moved quickly under the cover, which fortunately protected him from the rain, coming from the other direction. Ducking into the office, he avoided looking at the burly man, and went straight for the lit up machine in the corner. Grabbing a bottle of water, Will turned to head back, unfortunately not managing to avoid the clerk's eye again. He slipped through the door just as the man wiggled his eyebrows.

The air was a little chilly back outside, and he was grateful when he entered the room again. Rachel exited the bathroom as he turned the lock, and she smiled as he handed her the water. "Thanks."

"No problem. I'm going to let Ms. Pillsbury know what's going on." Rachel nodded around the bottle and Will entered the bathroom.

()()()

The call with Emma was short, and her tone was even shorter. She obviously had a problem with the situation (and not just being the sole chaperone at the hotel), despite him assuring her that everything was fine, and they had rooms next to each other (a lie, although they were technically in separate rooms at the moment, weren't they?).

Rachel was leaned against the headboard the way he had been, checking her phone. With a scoff she slid the phone shut and slammed it down on the nightstand. Will raised his eyebrows in a question, but Rachel just took another sip of her water.

Will tried not to watch as her full lips pressed against the hard plastic, and failing, and he sat next to her. Some infomercial had started, and as he tried to figure out what exactly was being sold, Rachel extended the bottle to him and asked, "Would you like some?"

Will wanted to refuse, it seemed absurdly inappropriate for a teacher to be sharing a beverage with a student (despite the fact that they would be sharing a bed within the hour). But he had forgotten to get himself one in the mad dash to be out of the scrutiny of the clerk, so Will grabbed the bottle, his fingers brushing hers, and smiled a shy smile. "Thank you."

He tried not to notice that Rachel seemed to have the same interest in his movements as he'd just had in hers, but that meant, instead, consciously acknowledging that his mouth was touching the same surface hers had less than a minute ago. After a sizable gulp of water, Will couldn't stop from letting his tongue dart out and lick at the lower lip of the bottle before handing it back to Rachel.

"You're welcome." The ascent of the bottle to her lips was slow and sweet and Will felt a jolt of desire as she drew from the container. Turning his attention to the screen quickly, he debated faking a yawn to break the strange tension in the room. But a yawn meant sleep, and sleep meant bed, and—

Rachel yawned. Of course. It was getting late, and there was a performance at eleven the next morning. "I guess we better try and get some sleep, huh?" This time he was able to give her more of an actual choice in the matter, though it was more of a "_when_ do you want things to get more awkward," than an actual choice in events.

"Yes, we'd better. Though I don't suspect we need to be in top form for the invitational, as well as the fact that the rest of the team will be getting little sleep themselves."

Will looked down, and then made one offer that might ease the tension, despite it meaning some serious physical discomfort. "Rachel? Would you like—I can sleep on the floor."

"Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Schue. We're both mature adults here. This does not need to be an issue." Despite the gentle look in her eyes, her voice seemed tinged with anger. Then again, he was a little angry with the situation, too. And, he wanted to point out that if she were actually an adult, this might not be the same problem it was.

Rachel flipped the blankets back and slid the pillow from the headboard to the mattress. "Do you have a preference on the side of the bed?" Will shook his head "no," and matched her movement on the side he was on.

With a start, Rachel looked up and smiled. "I'll be right back," she grabbed the keys from the dresser and flew open the door, running to the van.

Will watched from the door frame, yelling over the rain after her, "What are you doing? Rachel!" Rachel either ignored him or couldn't hear, as she stood behind the van, struggling with the lock on the trunk space.

The rain was coming down as hard as ever, and he could see her yellow sweater darkening with the onslaught of water. Finally the trunk opened, and Rachel leaned in for a few moments, before slamming the vehicle shut. As she ran back to the door, Will stepped aside, while noticing that she was barefoot.

As she brushed past him, his eyes widened. "Are you crazy? What was that about?"

Rachel sighed in frustration and looked down at her toes. "I didn't bring my bag into the hotel, so I thought it was in the back. I didn't want to sleep in this," she gestured at her short skirt and sweater, completely soaked from her impulse run.

Will closed his eyes and pursed his lips. "Was it a pink duffle? With a star," He answered his own question as he added the detail. "Puck and Finn and I unloaded the car."

"That's just perfect." Rachel seemed genuinely upset for the first time all evening, and Will's mood matched. After all, it wasn't as if this was something he'd planned, or even wanted.

Rachel went to sit on the bed, but stopped as she ran her hands over the wet fabric of her skirt. Will looked down, and pulled his dress shirt out of his jeans. He unbuttoned it, conscious of Rachel's eyes watching his movements. Slipping it off of his shoulders, he walked over to her in his white t-shirt and jeans, handing her the shirt. "Here. You can't stay in wet clothes."

Rachel looked down at the shirt and walked to the bathroom. "Thank you."

Will waited impatiently as she changed. This whole situation was all kinds of messed up, and it just kept getting worse. Will sat on his side of the bed and slipped his socks off, setting them in his socks by the wall.

The door to the bathroom opened, and Rachel stepped out, silhouetted by the bright light of the bathroom. Will looked up and his heart stopped for a moment. His gulp was most certainly audible as Rachel flipped the light off in the bathroom and walked toward the bed.

She was absolutely breathtaking. Her dark hair was curled in thick strands from the rain, resting on the collar of his shirt. _His_ shirt, that had been on his shoulders just minutes ago. Will reached for her bottle of water and took a long drink, as he realized she wasn't quite short enough for his shirt to be decent. It went to mid-thigh, but barely, and the thought that this beautiful girl was going to be next to him, separated by just a few layers, sent a pleasant buzz through his nerves.

Rachel made her way to bed and was about to sit down. Instead, she started to speak. "You're going to—Don't you wear box—" she stopped herself again, shaking her head quickly and drinking some water.

To be honest, Will was not looking forward to sleeping in jeans, but he thought some lines should remain during this disaster night. "I, yes, but won't that make you uncomfortable?" Rachel laughed out loud for the first time since _Funny Girl_, and rested her hand on his forearm.

"I'm wearing your shirt to sleep next to you. I am fairly certain one more step won't exactly change the situation." Will gave a half-hearted smile and walked to the bathroom, deciding not to strip in front of her.

Closing the door behind him, he slid off the pants and folded them, setting them on the counter. He noticed Rachel's clothes hanging over the shower wall in the mirror, and blushed when he saw her bra hanging there. "Oh."

It was yellow, he noticed, as he went to the bathroom. He washed his hands and turned. As he reached for the handle, he noticed something underneath Rachel's skirt, a small bit of yellow sticking out. Afraid and anxious to confirm his suspicion, Will hesitated briefly before lifting the tartan skirt and realizing that, yes, those were Rachel Berry's panties on the shower wall.

She was completely naked, save for his shirt, in a bed he was to share just feet away.

God had some messed up sense of humor, because the next few hours were going to be some of the worst (read: best) torture of his life. Taking a deep breath, Will opened the door, sliding off the light and walking to double check that the door was locked. He turned off the light to the bedroom, too, and walked over to his side of the bed.

Rachel had already slipped under the covers, and Will realized that she hadn't wanted him to watch her try to sit on the bed, due to her clothing limitations.

He was grateful that her attention was focused on the TV, because the information he'd gotten in the bathroom, combined with the weird tension of the past few hours had sent several pleasurable shocks through his nerves, and the thin material was doing very little to hide his reaction. He slipped under the covers quickly.

Will reached for his phone on the nightstand and set the alarm for seven o'clock the next morning. He set it back down and Rachel turned off the TV. The room was quiet and dark, save for the rain outside and the lightning that occasionally struck in the sky.

Will was thinking about why, besides the obvious, tonight had been so different with Rachel, when he heard a noise come from her side of the bed. It stopped as soon as it started, and he waved it off, figuring that maybe she was already asleep, understandably.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Schuester." Will turned his head on his pillow, finding only Rachel's back facing him.

"Rachel, this isn't your fault."

A hesitating pause, then, "Yes, it is. I pushed. You wanted to cancel, and I pushed." Quieter: "I always push."

Will wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, but he realized that Rachel was making use of the anonymity of their positions, and he decided it was a pretty good tactic.

"Rachel, it's my fault. I shouldn't have initiated this side trip. I should've turned around sooner. You're not the one at fault here." Besides, he was the one who was clearly getting perverted pleasure out of aspects of this detour. He was no better than that clerk in the office.

"And," a struggling huff, "I'm sorry that you're stuck here with me."

That one was unexpected. The distaste she conveyed as she referenced herself concerned him. Was that why she'd gotten angry earlier? Because she thought he was upset about _her_ company in particular? "I'm not."

The silence gave Will a chance to realize that the comment he'd just made may not have been his best bet. His concern with the situation was not that she was going to revert back to her childish crush (though he had a strong suspicion that she believed that was it). No, that had been brief, and she had been completely professional when they'd met over the summer to work on Glee as a good captain and advisor should.

Rather, he mostly felt alarm at the fact that he was telling the truth; he was not upset by her presence the way he'd expected he would feel when they'd left the hotel.

He realized his statement might need a little clarification, so he spoke quietly, "Granted, this wouldn't be my first choice of situation to be in. But I'm not upset that you're here, Rachel. I—I am sorry, though, that you have to…"

No need to finish the sentence—there was no way she didn't know what he was referring to. Rachel gave a tiny snort and shifted under the covers. "Please, I'd much rather be here with you than spending the evening listening to Finn and _Noah_."

Will furrowed his brows at her emphasis. "What happened with Puck?"

"Nothing. He's just a callous oaf who sticks his nose where it doesn't belong."

"Did Puck say something to you? You seemed angry when you hung up your phone earlier."

Rachel rolled onto her back, and Will tried not to imagine how high his shirt tails were at this point. He rolled his head to the side on his pillow, taking in her profile. "You don't have to put up with his comments, Rachel. If they are truly making you uncomfortable, just tell—"

Her bedazzled monstrosity was shoved in front of his face, flipped open to a message.

**ms. p tld us u and schue nvr got to theatre. guess i wasnt 2 far off base huh berry?**

Will didn't know how to respond to the message. He could imagine the types of comments Puck was referring to, but Will didn't know if talking about it would be better or worse. He said nothing as Rachel rolled back on her side and set the phone under her pillow. The movement of Rachel's head caused her hair to flop closer to him on the pillow, and he breathed in the gentle scent of one of those purple flower smells they used in products.

Sighing, Will closed his eyes and prayed for morning.

()()()

The gentle squeak of the bed was the first thing Will noticed as he returned to consciousness. The second was a cacophony of stimuli; his nose in Rachel's hair, his arm resting on her waist, his fingers in between the buttons of his shirt, grazing smooth skin. Soft sighs, almost whimpers came from Rachel as Will realized the bed was squeaking because it was moving with him, as he rocked himself against her back.

Coming around to full lucidity, Will pulled his face away from hers and his hands dropped from the fabric. His hips were the last to retreat, not able to stifle a groan as his hard cock left her firm backside.

There were mere inches between Rachel' back and Will's front. He breathed heavily, but quietly, as he tried to determine if she was still asleep. "Mmm," came the breathless voice in front of him, as Rachel slid backwards, reestablishing contact with him.

His groan was involuntary, her back arching, pushing her ass into his cock. He ground against her before his hand flew to her hip, halting her movement. He didn't want to wake her, to instigate the new level of dysfunction in their night.

But Will also couldn't let this continue, or he wouldn't be able to stop it anymore. "Rachel," his lips brushed against her ear. "Wake up, honey. Rach."

The gentle shake to her hip did the trick, and a very groggy, "Huh?" fell from her lips. Turning to face him, Rachel's eyes widened and she jumped out of bed, flinging the covers to the footboard. "Oh, my God I'm so sorry!" She averted her eyes from his face and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

Will glanced at the clock on his phone. 3:37. Climbing out of bed, Will was very aware of the heavy cock between his legs. He couldn't exactly try to comfort her and apologize while his reaction to her was so obvious. Leaning his arm against the wall next to the bathroom door, Will let his head drop.

Worst. Field Trip. Ever.

Trying to calm himself, Will thought of how Rachel must be feeling. He'd just _violated_ one of his students. Will, who'd always had to deal with the school girl crushes, never in a million years thought he was that teacher.

The self-disgust he was feeling, however, was doing very little to distract him from the memory of Rachel's warm body beneath his fingers, her firm flesh as he ground against her or the delicious noises she'd made in her sleep.

"Rachel," it came out squeaky, so he tried again. "Rachel, I-I'm so, God this was a horrible idea. I didn't mean to, and I'm so, so sorry." The door started to open slowly, and Will was not ready for her to come out. This was all happening to fast, he wasn't collected and—

"You mean, you're not upset?" For all the times Rachel acted beyond her age, this was most certainly not one of them, and Will felt like a sleeze. Because just over her head, Will could see her skirt and the little yellow of the panties, and before he knew it, he was staring at her thighs.

The shirt brushed them so lightly, and Will gulped as he realized there was a shiny smear just peeking out from the material. "Mr. Schue?" Rachel was waiting for an answer, and it should have been, _no, it's my fault, I'm going to sleep in the van, now._

But instead it was him letting his hand rest on her waist as his other hand stole under the shirt, resting hotly on her stomach. Her reply was not that of the _I'm glad we're fine, it might be a good idea if you do give us some distance_ variety, but instead was her stepping closer as his thumb flicked out, sliding through the slick flesh and soft hair so he could press deliciously against her clit.

Her throat was making those sounds again as she bit her lip, and while he unbuttoned the shirt with his one hand, he pushed her teeth away from the plump flesh with his own mouth.

The bottle sharing had not prepared him for this at all, and he abandoned his previous tasks to run his fingers through her hair, gripping her by the back of the neck and pulling her out of the bathroom and against the wall.

"Rachel, I can't," he tried to explain (despite not knowing if _stop_ or _do this_ were the ends of that statement), but she shook her head and let her hands slide behind him, pushing up his thin shirt from the back.

"Please, Mr. Schue," and she stopped, looking up at him with those big brown eyes, her hands resting on the waistband of his shorts. He stepped toward her, his hands grabbing the backs of her thighs, smooth as he'd expected, and lifting her to his height.

"Yes, Rachel. God, if you wan—"

"I want, I want everything," and he knew he was not going to be able to give her everything (she knew it, too) but right now he could give her enough.

Will nipped and licked at her neck, his nose brushing against her hair every once and a while. Her legs were wrapped tight against his hips and he pulled away from the wall, dropping down onto the bed, her astride him.

Rachel ground down on his cock, now that she had some leverage, and Will finished unbuttoning her—_his_—shirt. Pulling the sides away from her body, he kissed her collarbone, murmuring, "You're so beautiful," against her tanned skin.

He kissed his way down to her breasts, taking a hard nipple into his mouth as Rachel's hand slid up his back, taking his shirt up with them. He was certain there would be nail marks there tomorrow, so he nipped at the top of her left breast, so he wouldn't be the only one claimed.

_Claimed_. The word bounced around in his mind a bit as he pulled back to let her take the shirt off of him. She was smiling at him as he leaned back, his bare chest warm despite the chill from the storm.

Suddenly a new wave of guilt overrode the pleasure he felt as Rachel's hand slipped under his boxers. Breaking from her lips, Will got out, "Maybe we should slow down."

Her grip on his shaft tightened, and his hand darted to her ass, palming and bringing her closer to him despite his words. "Mr. Schue, please, I want this, I want you," she slid forward to illustrate her claim, her hot core resting over his cock.

Will was a good man, a moral man, but he took in Rachel above him, her thighs pressed hotly against his own, her hand shielded from view by the thin material and the heat in her eyes, brown bordering on black with want. A dejected and an anxious, "I…_fuck…_" fell from his lips and Rachel must have understood, because she wasted no time in pulling her hand out and then dragging his shorts down.

Rachel had to arch up so Will could push his clothes to the floor, and as he did he rested his face against her chest, breathing in her scent in the dip of her collarbone. His breaths came shallow, and once he was bare to her, Rachel slid forward, her hot flesh coming into direct contact with his.

"Oh," reverberated on the walls from both of them and Will's hands fell back to her waist stopping himself before he could lift her up.

"Mr. Schuester, I…" Will met her eyes quickly, dreading her putting a stop to this, but knowing it may be the last chance to save his soul.

His hand threaded through her dark locks, clearing away her face. She looked nervous and happy as she gave him the most honest smile he'd ever seen. "Yes, Rachel? We don't, we can stop, no—"

"I'm glad that it's you. It feels," she leaned her head down to his, their noses brushing. "Right," she finished with a breathless admission. "I feel safe, here with you like this." He kissed her hard, as he realized what she was implying.

The kiss grew in intensity and Will felt Rachel's hips press against his impatiently. Drawing back, he narrowed his eyes. "Rachel, I'm flattered, and I'm glad you feel…" Rachel's eyebrows knitted in preparation for his words. "I—I can't give you, even if I want to, and—"

"I'm not asking for it, Will," The name felt strange coming from her, but good, like this was more OK than it really was. Rachel seemed to agree, so she closed her eyes and kissed him sweetly.

Will lifted her up and laid her on her back on the sheets. She propped herself on her elbows to watch him as he got his wallet from the dresser and took the foil packet from it. Tossing it on the bed next to her, Will smirked at her as he reached onto the bed, pulling her toward the end by the backs of her knees.

Rachel giggled and threaded her fingers through his curls as his mouth rested on her stomach. Humming against her belly button, Will pressed his chin against the smooth skin right below. Looking up at Rachel, he smiled at her closed eyes and stiff shoulders. "Is this OK, baby?"

Her eyes didn't open as she nodded hesitantly, and arched her hips slightly. Will's thumbs parted her slick flesh, drawing his tongue up and against her clit. He murmured against her wet flesh, before pulling back. Slipping his finger in to the tightness, Will stroked her thigh with his fingertips. "You're so wet, Rach." Her eyes flew open, and he smiled at her, letting her know that, _yes, Rachel, that's a good thing, _before giving her another lick and laying next to her.

He grabbed the condom and opened the packet. As he rolled the latex on, Rachel surprised him with a deep kiss, her tongue removing the traces of herself from his lips. Her moan of satisfaction almost made him cum right there; Terri had always enjoyed his, er, talents, but refused to kiss him after.

When Rachel pulled back, her hand drifted down to his, resting gently. "That's not lambskin, is it?" Her eyes were full of concern, and Will couldn't stop himself from giving her a chaste kiss. If anything could ruin _Rachel Berry_'_s_ first time, it would, of course, be the experience not remaining vegan-friendly.

"Just latex." She smiled and rested her hand on his hip, rolling onto her back as he covered her body with his. Will braced his arms on either side of her head, looking down at her.

She nodded, a last reassurance, as her legs came up around his waist and she put her hands on his shoulders. "I'm ready." Will guided himself to her entrance, and paused before sliding in slowly.

He paused when he reached her barrier, putting his weight on one arm to stroke her face with the other. "Honey, this is going to hurt." She nodded, and he kissed her forehead before taking one hand from his shoulder and lacing their fingers together on the pillow.

As she winced in preparation, Will thrust his hips forward, past the flesh and then he was inside her. Rachel hissed below him and her grip on his shoulder and fingers tightened. Will rested his head above her ear, breathing deeply. She was so tight and he could feel her walls clenching down on him involuntarily. He resisted the urge to move and instead whispered, "I am so, so sorry, Rachel. Do you want," she shook her head, her hair brushing his cheek.

"I want, in a minute. Just," she stopped talking for a second, and then her eyes opened, and through watery eyes she smiled at him as he leaned back. "I'm ready. Slow, I guess." She seemed bashful as she instructed him, and it was so unusual for her that he just moved, sliding into her completely.

Expletives left his mouth (he's pretty sure) as he drew back out, trying not to slam back in. "Incredible, Rach, you feel incredible."

"You, you too, Mr. Schue. It feels weird." He smiled at her, giving her a long kiss. "Good weird, I mean," once they parted again.

They moved slowly at first, but soon Rachel tilted her hips up and urged him faster, deeper, and he found his hand beneath her knee as he pulled her leg up to get more of her. Will was getting close, and by the keening noises she was making against his neck, so was Rachel. Will dropped her leg as his head dropped to her neck, careful not to bite there. He kissed and sucked though, as his hand dipped between them, and Will met Rachel's hand.

He groaned and pressed his fingers over hers, guiding her motion as they both rubbed her clit. She arched her back and her mouth dropped open in a silent 'O' as she came. Will opened his eyes just in time to watch her face as he followed her over the edge.

He collapsed on her, quickly rolling to his side as he pinched the condom and pulled it off. He could feel Rachel's eyes on his naked back as he flushed the condom and came back to the bed. He laid down on his back and Rachel snuggled into him, pulling the covers up.

They rested a few moments as they caught their breath and their brains caught up to their actions. No longer being able to stand the quiet singer, Will's voice was hesitant as he asked, "Rachel? Are, was this OK?"

Rachel looked up at him, snuggling in closer. "It was everything I thought I'd never have." She seemed a little too emotional, and Will slid down a little and turned to face her. Their bodies were pressed together lightly, and Rachel added, "Thank you, Mr. Schue. I don't expect this to," she waved her hands between them, "you know, go anywhere. But I don't regret it."

Will looked relieved as he pulled her around the waist, capturing her lips in a kiss. "I'm glad," he said when he pulled away from her. He stroked her cheek and added, "I'm glad it was me. And I think," he expelled a breath, "if things were different. I think—I want to give you more. But—"

"You can't. I know, Mr. Schue. You can't always get what you want," she gave him a knowing smile. "Finn was driving your car, you know."

"You're amazing, Rachel." She smiled and leaned her head against his chest, where they fell asleep.

()()()

7 AM came far too early, but they both got out of bed. Will got into the shower, and Rachel followed him in. Before he could protest, Rachel grabbed the bar of soap and said, "Just once more," with a sweet glint in her eye. Will knew he should say no, back up his previous statements, but she was in front of him, still smelling of his shirt. He submitted under her kiss and knew that whatever _they_ were, good or bad, it was unstoppable.


End file.
